


On Horseback: Extra Stories

by Emory7Claire



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, F/F, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Femslash, First Dates, Growing Up, M/M, Menstruation, Sick Animals, Sick Character, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Love, Young Victor Nikiforov, blood mention, period fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emory7Claire/pseuds/Emory7Claire
Summary: Twelve new On Horseback stories to go with my Yuri!!! on Ice fic. They'll be posted as I work on my latest fic and will include stories about young Yuuri and Victor, the progression of Otabek and Yurio's relationship, and some added MilaSara stories. I hope you enjoy, my lovelies!





	1. 9 Years Before Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dears!  
> Sorry this took so long to post. I've been really busy studying for the SAT which is in just over a month. I should have put this out sooner and I'm sorry I didn't.  
> So, here's how this is gonna go down:  
> I'm gonna post the first chapter to my next long fic in a few days. It's a genderbent mermaid fic, another Yuri on Ice au. That's mostly gonna be to keep AO3 from deleting my draft of it, but you guys will also get a taste of it while I post these extra On Horseback stories. Once this series is wrapped up, I'll start posting the mermaid fic chapters regularly.  
> This first chapter is set 9 years before Yuuri and Victor meet and is about Vitya's first Rolex. I hope you all enjoy!!

Victor runs a brush through his long hair, trailing his finger through the silken strands after the teeth of the comb. He watches himself in the mirror, eyes following the movement of the brush. He shifts to start drawing the strands back to the nape of his neck, collecting them there and then tying them back. Victor sets the brush down on the hotel bathroom counter and smooths over his riding habit; a beautiful deep pink jacket to go with his black breeches. He grabs his equipment bag and heads out the hotel door.

The Kentucky Horse Park barn is almost as nice as the one in St. Petersburg, but it’s smaller and the aisles aren’t as well maintained. The other Classics competitors have their horses in the cross-ties, grooming them or stretching their legs. Today is the show jumping portion of the Rolex, and Victor’s rivals give him pointed looks. He ignores them, wiping off the sweat beading at his forehead. They’re just jealous that he’s winning when he’s so much younger than them all.

Makkachin is eating a fresh pile of hay when Victor reaches his stall.

“‘Morning, boy,” he coos as he enters the stall with the equipment bag left outside.

Makkachin looks up, a clump of hay still in his mouth. Victor chuckles as his horse reaches his nose forward and the rider allows the animal to smell his palms. Once he does, Makkachin lifts his muzzle and blows a breath onto Victor’s face. He blows back and catches the thoroughbred’s face in a hug, relaxing into him.

“You ready to win our first ever four star Event?” Victor asks.

Makkachin snorts.

“Arrogance like that won’t make you a winner.”

Victor turns to see Yakov standing on the other side of the stall door. His coach gives him a deep scowl.

Yakov nods to Makkachin. “Get him ready.”

“Yes, coach.”

Victor begins brushing down his horse, ever aware of Yakov watching him from the aisle. The Russian coach approached him at a college competition in America a years and a half ago, offering to train him and help win several important Events, starting with the Russian Nationals and then the Kentucky Rolex. Training in St. Petersburg was difficult but worth it as he and Makka are now one ride away from winning their first CCI**** Event.

Yakov gives Victor the usual drilling as he tacks up Makkachin.

“Keep his reins loose and your leg pressed to him,” Yakov begins again. “Lean into the turns; he’ll need the help. He’s good at keeping himself collected, but if you feel his strides getting too long, bring back his focus.”

Victor listens but doesn’t pay much attention as his coach continues, the blood rushing through his ears almost drowning out the old man’s voice. He may have only gotten Makka a year ago and kinda needs this advice, but he’s too excited to pay much attention to Yakov. If Victor and Makkachin win today, they’ll make history. They’ll be all over the news and might gets advertisment deals. Maybe he’ll be able to buy his own apartment.

“Understand?”

Victor’s attention comes back to his coach and he nods. “Yeah. Ride well and win. I’m on it.”

Yakov grumbles, dropping his head into his hands. “Be out in the warm up arena in five minutes.”

Victor finishes tacking up his horse and leads him out to where the other eventers are warming up. He holds the lead rope tightly to keep his excited fingers from trembling as they make their way to the entrance gate. Makkachin walks beside him skittishly, prancing sideways and tucking his head in. His rider scratches at his mane to help him calm down, the gelding nickering and shaking out his neck.

Yakov begins drilling them through their usual warm ups, starting with basic flat work without stirrups. His competitors watch the pair as they move around the arena, and Victor does his best to ignore them. Working extra hard is what got them here in the first place and it's why they're going to win. They then go over a few practice fences before Yakov allows his student a break for water.

The Event begins with Victor and Makkachin still warming up, being one of the last pairs to ride today. They're ahead of their closest rival by a comfortable margin. They'll only fall behind if they knock three or more fences. Makka spooks for the fifth time just as they’re landing off a simple vertical, and Victor rides him once around the mostly empty arena before heading over to where Yakov gestures for them.

The rider nearly drowns himself in water as his coach goes on his usual rant. “You did well over the oxars, but what was that with the vertical? You need to relax, Vitya. Horses react to our emotions; he’s skittish because you’re nervous. Breathe and allow your body to move with his.” Victor stops drinking for a second to look to Yakov and nod. “But also stay nice and tall in the saddle; never let your posture be less than perfect. Your seat was too far forward when approaching the jump. You were expecting it, and that’s a habit you need to stop badly.”

Victor listens to his coach’s tirade, taking in as much as he can while he rubs water from his bottle over Makkachin’s sweaty neck. Yakov stops him and orders him inside to sponge the horse down before they compete. Sooner than later, it’s almost their time to go and the three of them go to wait by the entrance of the jumping arena. As they do, Victor takes his long hair and twists it into a hairnet on top of his head, putting his helmet on over it. His hands shake as they do, nearly dropping the piece of safety gear into the dirt. He needs to relax or this excitement will be the death of him. Victor’s blood is rushing at the speed of light and his heart pounds hard and he’s starting to feel lightheaded- is _ this _ what excess joy does to a person?

“Hey.”

Victor looks up towards the hand that’s come down on his shoulder, his vision clearing to reveal a face that has him nearly jumping out of his skin. Gorgeous black hair, a magnificent form, and several Olympic medals in his repertoire.

“You’re…” Victor can’t even finish his sentence.

The American eventer giggles. “That I am. And you’re the rider from Russia.”

Victor nods furiously. “I’m such a big fan of yours; I can’t believe you’re talking to me-”

“Well, I was coming over to see if you’re okay,” he cuts in. “You looked like you were about to faint.”

“Oh, I’m alright. I’m just very excited!”

“Fainting isn’t a sign of excitement.” He arcs an eyebrow. “It’s a sign of nerves.”

“But I’m not nervous. I’ve been training hard for this Event all year!”

The eyebrow rises. “How hard?”

Victor shrugs. “As much as humanly possible?”

His face softens. “Well, I hope you do win, Victor. But please remember to stay calm and breathe in the saddle, and live happily off of it.”

“Johnny!”

“I’m coming!” He calls towards the voice, turning to give Victor one more smile. “Good luck.”

He nearly faints as he watches the American eventer walk away, almost ignoring Yakov completely as he yells at him to get on Makkachin. His heart's still pounding as he settles into the saddle. An Olympian eventer…  _ spoke  _ to him… was  _ worried  _ about him. Is he dreaming?

_ A sign of nerves. _

Was he right? Is Victor... nervous? Is this lightheadedness and trembling and pounding heart really him just being anxious? It would explain Makkachin's behavior.

He is right. Victor is anxious- scared, even. What if they knock over every rail? It's possible; no one really knows how to predict anything in this sport. What if they do and lose terribly? Yakov might not keep him on as a student and his career would end here. Victor wouldn't have a stable income. Where would he keep Makkachin without the money to pay for board? He'd have to sell his horse-

No.

They can win this. Victor just needs to relax. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and then lets it go. He feels Makkachin relax underneath him. A few moments later, his name is announced. Another deep breath. They're going to win.

Victor urges Makkachin to trot into the arena and they do.


	2. 8 Years More of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri refused to leave until their parents bought him for him. He hasn’t left the horse’s stall since yesterday afternoon, washing and grooming and washing him over and over again. Hopefully the katsudon will convince him to come back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY LOVELIES!!!  
> Guess who's back! It's me!  
> I'm so fucking sorry that this took so long. This past summer was a fucking mess and I was so busy with SAT studying and now I'm busy with settling back into school which hasn't been easy. But I'm here now with another story for you. This is of baby Yuuri and I hope you enjoy.  
> The next story will go up as soon as possible.  
> <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3  
> P.S. Thank you so much for your patience. I love you all so much.

"Mari! Will you call your brother for dinner?!"

"He's still in the barn, Mom!" Mari calls back as she starts towards the front door.

"Well, tell him I've made katsudon!" Hiroko answers. "I'm hoping to entice him with it."

Mari laughs as she slips outside and puts on her paddock boots.

Her sixteen year old brother got his own thoroughbred yesterday at the local Hasetsu horse fair. The gelding was stuck in a tiny stall, fidgeting in the small space and covered in dirt and burrs. Yuuri refused to leave until their parents bought him for him. He hasn't left the horse's stall since yesterday afternoon, washing and grooming and washing him over and over again. Hopefully the katsudon will convince him to come back inside.

Mari slips into the barn and the horses nicker as she passes their stalls. She occasionally reaches out to scratch their chins. After pausing to give Niki a hug, she steps past the mare's stall to the one right beside it, finding her younger brother hard at work inside combing invisible knots out of Victor's mane.

The bay gelding looks a million times better than he did when they brought him home yesterday: his coat is free of mud, his hooves are freshly polished, and his mane and tail shine sleeker than silk. Victor looks to Mari at the stall door and nickers; the light has come back into his chocolate brown eyes.

"Evening, Victor," Mari says to him.

The horse nickers at her again.

"Mari!" her younger brother exclaims. He steps around Victor to meet her at the door, a giant grin on his teenage face. "Doesn't Vicchan look good?"

"He looks great," Mari chuckles at her brother's enthusiasm. "Have you been grooming him all night?"

Yuuri ducks his head. "Maybe. We _did_ take a break and I lunged him! I just wanted Vicchan to feel at home."

"Well, he looks very comfortable now." Mari scratches the gelding's chin with the hand he was nuzzling. "It's time for dinner. Mom made your favorite."

Yuuri's eyes light up. "Katsudon?"

"Yep."

He looks back to Vicchan. "I don't know..."

"He'll be fine, Yuuri." Mari rests a hand on his shoulder. "Come inside and eat. Niki will keep him company."

The mare next door nickers and the siblings giggle. Yuuri puts away the grooming supplies, gives Vicchan a hug, and then follows his sister out of the barn.

"Will you ride him soon?" Mari asks him.

Yuuri nods. "Probably in a week or two, after he's settled. Will you watch me?"

"Of course."

****

After an intensive morning chore routine and quick lunch, Mari helps Yuuri tack Vicchan for the pair's first ride.

The gelding fidgets as they rest the pads and saddle on his back, looking back at them when the girth is tightened. Yuuri steps forward to comfort the horse, cooing and helping him relax as Mari finishes.

"Is he alright?" she asks.

Yuuri nods, stroking Vicchan's cheek. "He's just worried that we'll treat him like his previous owners."

Mari nods. She remembers the dirt and mud caked into his fur and the burs in his mane. The scars and his ribs visible... it wasn't a pretty sight. Two weeks later, he looks much better, but the transition is going to be much harder than a few baths and lunging sessions.

The three of them walk out to the outdoor arena. Yuuri thinks it's better that Vicchan be out in the open air than in a stuffy indoor ring. The gelding prances sideways every few steps, ears flickering back and forth to hear every noise. Mari keeps her distance while Yuuri continues cooing at Vicchan.

Mari stands at the horse's shoulder in the arena, holding his reins as her younger brother checks the tack once more. The gelding whinnies and looks back at Yuuri when he tightens the girth.

"Easy," the boy coos. "It's alright."

Vicchan sighs, facing forward once more. Yuuri slips his left foot into the stirrup and leans himself on the horse. The gelding's ears flick back, watching the young rider. Yuuri bounces a few times and lifts himself up, staying perched on the stirrup with one foot until Vicchan relaxes and then swings his right leg over his back, settling into the saddle.

"You got him?" Mari asks her younger brother.

Yuuri checks his reins and nods. "Yeah."

Mari goes to the fence and watches Yuuri and Vicchan. The gelding stands still, his backwards facing ears the only sign that he's tense. Yuuri sits still and soft in the saddle, scratching under the horse's mane and speaking to him. They stay there until Vicchan's ears perk forward. Then, Yuuri squeezes his sides and the horse begins to walk.

Mari watches the pair closely, making note of every detail.

Vicchan walks well and with good form, his hind hooves stepping into the prints of his front hooves. His back is level, head bobbing with the sway of his hips and shoulders. Yuuri sits easy in the saddle, he and Vicchan seeming to merge into one as Mari's brother urges his horse into a smooth trot.

The pair are incredible together. Yuuri's hours of time spent with the gelding has paid off as Vicchan trusts him and is relaxed under his hand. They trot, canter, and do stirrupless work as if they were made for one another. Mari is entranced.

"Afternoon."

She turns to the figure that's suddenly at the fence next to her.

"Hi, Minako-sensei."

The trainer smiles as she watches the horse and rider pair inside the arena. "Yuuri and Vicchan work very well together. Is this his first time riding the gelding?"

Mari nods. "Who would've thought that dirty horse was this well trained?"

"Your brother has a good eye."

Mari smiles. "Yeah. He does."

Minako-sensei hums to herself as she watches Yuuri slow Vicchan to a walk, leaning over to pet his neck. "Do you think it's too late to train him as an eventer?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lunging - taking a long lead rope and having the horse walk, trot, and canter around you in a circle. It's a good way to exercise horses if they're not being ridden.


	3. The First Colic Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, Yuri stops to watch his grandpa drive away and looks over the quiet pastures, the sun rising over the distant orchard. For the next three days, Victor is with Yakov in France for the first Classics event. For the next three days, he’s free of that pretentious show off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissss!!!!  
> Miss meh? Yeah you did (probably not). IT'S FINALLY HERE!! It's time to learn some shit about Yurio!! I call him "Yuri" in this chapter because he'd never call himself "Yurio". So, yeah. Enjoy some baby Yurio angst.  
> <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Yuri's grandpa drops him off at the St. Petersburg stable early in the morning. He's always one of the first ones there every day aside from the coaches.

Today, Yuri stops to watch his grandpa drive away and looks over the quiet pastures, the sun rising over the distant orchard. For the next three days, Victor is with Yakov in France for the first Classics event. For the next three days, he's free of that pretentious show off.

Yuri takes a deep breath and walks into the barn.

It's mostly quiet except for the occasional rider and horse in the crossties or nickers coming from stalls. He says hi to Georgi and narrowly escapes getting manhandled by Mila. Yuri makes his way to the aisle where Agape is housed. He grins at Makkachin's empty stall and sets down his bag before opening his horse's door.

He stops suddenly.

Agape is lying on the stall floor, his fur caked with sweat and breathing hard. The horse looks up to him and whines, the whites of his eyes visible. Yuri stumbles back, then turns and screams.

_**"Lilia!"** _

The coach is there in an instant, her designer show boots clicking on the cobblestone floor. Her angled features are softened with worry.

"What's wrong, Yuri?"

He points to the still-open stall door. " _Agape is on the ground and breathing heavily and sweating and I don't know what's going on!"_

Lilia's brow furrows as she slips past the young rider and into the stall, falling to her knees by the horse's side. She presses her ear to Agape's stomach and runs her hand down his shoulder.

"Is he okay?" Yuri asks, biting at the tips of his fingers.

"I think he has colic." Lilia stands. "I'll call Dr. Petrov, she'll be here as soon as possible." the coach stops to rest her hands on Yuri's shoulders. "He's going to be fine. Stay here with him until I get back."

Yuri watches as Lilia disappears down the aisle and around the corner.

A pained whinny breaks him out of his daze. He turns back to Agape's stall, tentatively stepping to the open door. The horse looks up to him, nickering and reaching forward. Yuri steps into the stall, walking slowly around Agape. The horse watches and nickers as the boy settles to the stall floor behind him and draws the gelding's head into his lap. Agape breathes hard against Yuri's fingers, his muzzle nuzzling into his palm. The boy's other hand runs down the horse's neck in long strokes. Agape relaxes, leaning into Yuri's touches.

It's ten minutes before Lilia returns with Dr. Petrov. Yuri hears them talking as they approach the stall, getting tenser with each word; "gut noises", "tube", "blockage." They vet appears in the open doorway, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"Yuri." She moves to Agape's side, voice urgent. "I need to look at Agape. Help me get him up."

There's no moment to hesitate as Dr. Petrov is already at the gelding's flank and urging him to get to his feet.

With Yuri's help, Agape stands but takes every opportunity to get back onto the floor. Lilia and Yuri hold him still as Dr. Petrov checks his heartbeat, temperature, and gut. She hums to herself as she listens to his stomach, taking a stethoscope out of her bag and listening closer. Yuri's own gut is twisted into a knot.

Dr. Petrov steps back and turns to Lilia. "It's definitely colic, but the blockage is more severe than average. I'll have to put in a nasogastric tube and give him some medication. It will take him a few days longer than normally to pass everything."

"Will he be okay?"

She looks to Yuri. "Yes. He'll pass the blockage and be right as rain in a month."

The vet takes her time putting in the nasogastric tube, Yuri and Lilia holding Agape's head still while she does, the coach nearly getting bitten in the process. She shows them how to administer the medicine, giving him some painkillers and laxatives as she does. Yuri sits back down with Agape when she's done, petting the horse as Lilia listens to Dr. Petrov's instructions: medications twice a day, walk him as often as possible, don't let him eat grain or hay, keep him comfortable, don't let him roll, try not to worry too much. Lilia thanks the vet before Dr. Petrov bids her and Yuri farewell and leaves for another appointment.

He and his coach were going to start the day with training on a show jumping course, but that won't be happening. Yuri spends the rest of his time at the barn with Agape, walking the horse up and down the aisles of the barn when he'll stand up and petting him when he can't. Lilia tries to get him to practice on a stable horse, but he refuses each time. Yuri ends up talking to Agape for hours on end, telling him stories or aimlessly speaking about whatever comes to mind.

"I'd love to do a dressage routine to rock music," he coos to his horse. "That classical shit is so boring. But who knows if the judges would allow it... maybe Victor would choreograph it for me... no, that old geezer wouldn't know rock if it punched him in the face."

Mila comes by when she overhears him to tease the younger rider, and Yuri has to call her a hag five times before she leaves him alone. Georgi stops by to see how Agape is doing after his training session with Lilia, and he and Yuri go walking with the sick horse. They talk about seemingly nothing until the sun starts going down and Lilia calls them back because Agape needs his medicine.

Georgi leaves them be to take care of Carabosse before he goes home. Yuri holds his sick horse still as his coach gives him the pain medication and laxatives.

"It's six; your grandpa should be here soon," Lilia says to him.

"Why?" Yuri's brow furrows at her. "I'm not leaving him."

Lilia's voice softens. "Yuri, you have to go home and get some sleep. The stable hands will take care of him-"

"No! I don't trust them with him!" he hugs Agape's face close, ignoring the tube wrapped around his halter. "I'm not leaving him until he gets better."

Of course, that doesn't happen.

Yuri's grandpa comes into the stable and carries the young boy out to the car, holding him extra close as he cries into his shoulder. At home, he makes piroshky and puts the boy to bed early. It takes him hours to fall asleep that night, only drifting away once his sobs finally stop.

Agape passes the blockage within two weeks. The best day of Yuri's life is when his horse is already on his feet when he turns the corner onto the aisle, head leaning over the stall door to nicker at him in greeting.

 

Five years later in Kentucky, Yuri hears the worry and fear in Katsuki Yuuri's voice when they find Eros sick in her stall. He remembers himself as a twelve year old, terrified for the fate of his horse. He remembers how he cried himself to sleep and didn't want to leave Agape's side. He remembers the daily care and constant worry. Without another thought, he steps forward to take care of the mare, already vowing to take care of her better than he could Agape.


	4. The Sixth Rolex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor smiles at his best friend. "Took you two long enough."  
> "Jealous, Vitenk'a?" Chris smirks back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey honey darlings, how ya during?  
> Didn't expect this so quickly? Me neither. This chapter is really short and is about 25 year old Victor and 23 year old Chris at the Rolex Kentucky. Enjoy!

Chris and Sam take the elevator down to the lobby of the hotel, dressed for a night out in Lexington with the other young Classic riders. Victor and Chris are going to treat them to dinner at their favorite BBQ spot.

The Rolex this year was his second and his best friend's sixth consecutive win at the Classics event. Chris came in a close second and is in the same place in the overall rankings behind Victor. These past few years have been great for him. After Victor was found by Yakov, Chris transferred to a school in Switzerland with a better riding team and competed with them until he graduated. Through that team, he met Sam and they're now engaged and getting married in the winter. Everything is working out even better than he could have ever imagined.

The door of the elevator opens, and Chris and Sam step out, hand in hand. The rest of the riders are already in the lobby. Sara, Mila, and Georgi are talking amongst themselves. Emil and Mickey are talking to Victor, the champion eventer gesturing as he speaks. The two listen to him with captivated faces. Everyone looks up as Chris and Sam enter the lobby.

Victor smiles at his best friend. "Took you two long enough."

"Jealous, Vitenk'a?" Chris smirks back.

Victor's smirk falters.

"Enough competing," Mila cuts in. "Let's go eat!"

They all head out together, Victor and Chris taking the lead to the BBQ place a few blocks over. He watches his best friend as they walk.

Victor has been deteriorating over the past few years, and he's now the worst Chris has ever seen him. He hardly smiles, and if he does, it never reaches his eyes. He's tired all the time, but tries to hide it - poorly. What shocked Chris most happened four days ago.

Victor adores having long hair. He takes care of it as diligently as a parent would their small child. He loves styling it and it makes him feel beautiful. At the last Classics event, he had put it in a French braid under his helmet. Then, when he arrived for the Rolex, it was short. The over half meter of his flowing hair was gone. He didn't provide an explanation and brushed off anyone who asked.

Now, Chris is more scared for his best friend than he ever was before.

****

"Darling! Did you pay back Victor for dinner?"

"No, thank you for reminding me!" Chris calls back.

He grabs his wallet and the keycard before leaving their hotel room.

The young Classics riders all got rooms in the same section of the hotel. Victor's is just a few doors down. Chris is about to knock when he notices that the door is cracked, propped open by the lock's bar. He pushes it open as he calls out.

"Vitenk'a?"

The room is dark, the only light coming from the open ensuite bathroom doorway. Delicate whimpers sound from the little room.

Chris sets his wallet and keycard on a nearby table, warily stepping towards the bathroom and over the threshold. Victor is on the floor, curled in on himself and crying. The silver trophy he won today is in the bathtub, dented almost beyond recognition with the tatters of the ribbons strewn about it. Chris kneels at his best friend's side, tentatively reaching out to touch him.

"Victor, what's wrong?"

He looks up suddenly, eyes red and face neutral. His blue eyes have gone gray, his hair is messy, and his clothes are mussed up. Chris has never seen him like this before. He brushes the tears away from under his best friend's eyes but more take their place.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

Victor shudders under his hand. "I don't know if I can keep doing this, Chris."

With that, he collapses against his chest, sobbing once more. All Chris can do is wrap his arms around his best friend, praying for his pain to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehehe I'm so eeeeeeeevvviiiiiiiiiiiiillll


	5. Elsewhere in Paris...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, bitches?! Miss me? Probably not, only less than 300 people have actually read this :'(  
> Well, it's here! Time to dive into the Otayuri! And if you have a problem with that, please make your way to the notes at the end of the chapter.  
> I'm gonna stop promising stuff and just post shit when it's ready, but I'll keep you guys updated on what I'm doing atm and will post everything at the same time: 4pm EST. I currently have the next few chapters started, so those should be out in the near future but don't take my word for it.  
> Enjoy, lovelies!!

Yuri stands on the rooftop balcony of the hotel, staring out at the sunset over Paris. The Classic riders have dispersed around the city, promising to meet up for dinner later that night. Yuri has been left alone at the hotel with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

He grumbles against the balcony railing. First, Yakov refuses to let him join the Classics team, giving his place to that pig instead, and now he's forced to attend the competitions he's not allowed to ride in. Yuri misses his horse and the two friends he has here that are off with their friends or girlfriend from another country.

The whole situation is bullshit.

Footsteps sound on the stone behind him, and Yuri turns. A young man walks towards him, vaguely familiar. His clothes, hair, and eyes are black, and his expression is blank. A scarf blows in the wind over his shoulder, half-tucked into his leather jacket.

Yuri scowls as he gets closer. "What are you looking at, asshole?"

The young man pauses, cocking his head at Yuri. "I came up to watch the sunset." His voice is deep and smooth, like rich coffee.

"...oh."

Yuri looks back out over Paris, the young man moving to stand by the railing just a meter from him. He can't help but turn to look him up and down, trying to place where he's seen that strong jawline and imposing eyes before.

"Are you one of the Classic riders?"

He turns to look at Yuri. "Yes." He places his hand on his chest. "I'm Otabek Altin."

"Right. You were in the lobby when we were checking in."

The Hero of Kazakhstan. He's one of the first eventers to come out of the western Asian country, making him very popular among its citizens. They say that he wants to bring glory to his country, putting extra pressure on him to win.

"We met six years ago," Otabek says out of nowhere. "At Yakov's summer camp."

Yuri frowns at him. "I don't remember that."

Otabek ducks his head before turning to look back out over Paris. "I had only been riding for a few years, but I already wanted to do it for the rest of my life. My parents agreed to let me go to Yakov's camp, but I couldn't keep up with the Russian riders, so I was put in the novice class. That's where I met you." Otabek pauses, looking up towards the sky. "Yuri Plisetsky... had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier."

That, for some reason, has Yuri blushing. "A soldier?" He follows Otabek's eyes to the yellow sky. "I had been riding under Yakov for half my life six years ago, but he refused to move me up to a higher level because of my age. Despite being the best rider in St. Petersburg, I'm _still_ held back."

"That's not his fault."

"I know, I just... it's frustrating, that's all." Yuri rests his chin on his crossed arms.

"I know how you feel." He looks up at Otabek who looks back. "I'm constantly going back and forth between Kazakhstan and other countries because there aren't any major competitions in my country, and I only started qualifying for them three years ago because I didn't have my own horse. I wanted to be taken seriously as a competitor, but no one did until I qualified for the Classics this year." He pauses. "The world isn't fair when it comes to age or where you're from. You just have to work hard and wait for your opportunity."

Yuri is speechless. He steps back from the balcony and straightens. "Otabek, why did you talk to me? Shouldn't you be off with the other competitors?"

Otabek sighs. "I've never gotten along with the other riders my age. I always thought you and I were alike..." He shakes his head. "So, will you be my friend or not?"

Otabek holds his hand out to Yuri and waits. The younger rider stares at it, nervous to reach out. He's never had a friend before... well, never a friend who was so willing. He finds himself blushing again as he tentatively grasps the other rider's hand and they shake. Yuri looks up to find a similar rosiness on Otabek's cheeks, probably from the cold.

"There's a café a few blocks away," the older rider says quickly. "Do you want to get a drink or quick bite before dinner tonight?"

"I wasn't invited to dinner," Yuri says.

"You can be my plus one. Please? I want to get to know you better."

How fucking much is Yuri going to blush? "Okay. Is the café far? It's really cold and I don't wanna get hypothermia."

"Oh, we won't be walking."

****

" _YOU HAVE A MOTORCYCLE?!"_

Otabek grins. "The leather jacket isn't just a fashion statement."

The bike is parked at the curb just outside the hotel door. It's gorgeously sleek and shiney, clearly well taken care of. Otabek slings a leg over the leather seat after slipping on a helmet and starts up the bike. As its engine purrs to life, Yuri dances with glee. Otabek turns and holds out another helmet, still smiling.

Yuri puts it on as he climbs onto the bike. "What do I do with my hands?"

"Here." Otabek guides the other rider's arms around his waist. "Hold on tight."

Yuri is blushing furiously as Otabek kicks off and they pull out into the street.

****

The café is warmly lit, every inch drenched in the scent of coffee and chocolate. Yuri and Otabek sit by the window with teas, twilight settling in behind them.

"What about you?" Yuri asks. "When did you get Beethoven?"

Otabek smiles around the rim of his glass. "It was hard to find horses in Kazakhstan that were trained in eventing. There were only three good trainers and I didn't connect with any of the horses that the first two had. It came down to that last trainer, and I was afraid we'd have to go out of country to find an eventer." He sighs, smile soft as he sets down his glass. "I wanted to have Beethoven the moment I saw him. He was so gorgeous; I'd never seen a horse like him before."

Yuri nods. Beethoven always stands out in the arena, warm up or otherwise. He's the most incredible palomino, mane and tail silver instead of white and tan fur sprinkled with dapples and gray hairs, making him dark and ethereal looking.

"My coach forced me to try the other horses first," Otabek continues. "But I only ever wanted Beethoven. I knew he was perfect the second I got in the saddle."

Yuri stares at him with wide eyes. "I've... never really felt that."

Otabek cocks his head. "An emotional connection is very important to have with your horse."

"Well, I love Agape." Yuri taps his finger against his glass. "But he was a gift, so I was never certain about that connection the moment I rode him for the first time. And he's stubborn, so it's difficult to think about an emotional connection while getting more and more frustrated."

"Do you use a crop often?"

Yuri stares down into his drink. "Yeah... it's a bad habit Yakov is trying to beat out of me."

"Good." There's a squeak and Yuri looks up to see that Otabek has leaned back in his seat. "Have you ever watched Katsuki Yuuri ride?"

Yuri's muscles go tense immediately. "Yes. That _pig_ took my spot on the Classics team."

Otabek's eyebrow ticks upwards. "He rides by listening to his horse and responding to her movements. You can feel their love for eventing through a video screen. It's that partnership that makes them so good together."

"But Agape and I have that partnership!"

"If you did, you'd have felt an emotional connection while riding him."

Yuri slumps back in his chair, grimacing out the window.

"Yuri, I only want to help you become a better rider." Otabek's voice is soft, yet somehow not patronizing. "I think you could learn a lot from other people."

"But I don't want to take after that _pig_."

"Why not? When I began DJing-"

Yuri's head snaps back over to look at Otabek in an instant. "You're a DJ?! How much cooler are you going to get?"

Otabek's cheeks flush pink. "When I started, I imitated other artists and DJs before I developed my own style." Otabek shrugs. "Maybe you can do that with riding Agape. I just think looking at Katsuki Yuuri might be a good place to start."

Yuri stares him up and down, feeling his cheeks getting warmer by the second. This near-stranger who claims to have known him from six years ago just gave him the best advice of his life.

They head to dinner a little while later, and, while holding tight to Otabek's waist on the back of the bike, Yuri remembers something. It was his first year owning Agape. He wanted to prove himself to Yakov at the coach's summer camp, hoping he'd raise his level by the end of it. He remembers the day they rode bareback and the boy who kept falling off his horse. Each time, he got right back on, dark eyes more determined than before.

Yuri's arms tighten around Otabek's waist and he leans his cheek against the other boy's back, almost falling asleep to the hum of the motorcycle's engine and the sound of his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ya'll gonna be assholes, hmm? Well, I have a few points to make.  
> 1) Yurio is NOT a child. He's a teenager, and a very mature one at that. He got a plane ticket to Japan and went on the plane himself at fucking 15. If he wants to date someone, it's fine.  
> 2) DATING is not SEX. Dating and sex are two very different things and one does not always mean the other. I have a problem with Yurio at age 15 being sexualized too, but imagining him in a nonsexual romantic relationship until he's 18 is what I'm doing here.  
> 3) The age difference isn't a big deal. Victor and Yuuri are further apart in age than Beka and Yura. And it's a double standard if you ship Leo and Guang Hong but consider Otayuri pedophilia, because Leo and Guang Hong have almost the exact same age difference and Leo is 19 and Guang Hong is fucking 17 and according to you dipshits, that's not okay.  
> 4) Welcome to the Madness. My god. Were we not watching the same thing? Yurio is embracing his sexuality and the changes to his body. With that comes hormones and the want to date. He's only going to get more mature so why stop him from getting to do what he wants?  
> If any of you complain about Otayuri in any of my upcoming chapters, your comment is getting deleted and I am blocking you. Are we clear? Good.  
> I hope you enjoyed.


	6. A Date in Amsterdam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you thinking about, bella?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyyyy there, demons. It's me, ya boi Satan.  
> Miss me? Probably not.  
> I forgot to mention it the last few times, but On Horseback got over 10,000 hits a few months back and that's so fucking awesome!!!! I'm so thankful for all of you. It's been a wild year, but I can't think of a better way it could have gone. I've got story 7 in the works, so enjoy some Milasara time in Amsterdam until then.  
> Enjoy, lovelies!

Sara stretches as far as the ceiling of coach will allow, the other passengers in the plane cabin similarly getting ready to leave. Her legs ache from sitting in such a cramped position for hours. She would have gotten a first class seat if this trip weren't just a short vacation.

Sara grabs her bag and begins down the plane aisle with the rest of the passengers, her fingers twitching as they shamble towards the door. Once she thanks the stewards and captain, she breaks into a sprint the second she steps out of the plane.

Sara weaves through the crowd, keeping an eye out for the signs that lead her feet to baggage claim. She stops once she's there. People crowd around the conveyer belts, ready to grab and go once their luggage appears. She stands on her tiptoes, trying to identify every face in the room. Her flight was supposed to come in earlier than Sara's. Was there a delay? A storm? Hopefully the turbulence wasn't too-

A body crashes into hers, nearly knocking them both over. There's red hair in her face as she's picked up and spun around. Sara and Mila are giggling by the time the latter sets the former down. They collide into a kiss, holding each other as close as possible and practically drinking in one another. They break away only to come together in a hug, Sara's face cuddling perfectly into the crook of Mila's neck.

Mila sighs. "I missed you so much."

Sara hugs her closer. "It's only been a few months, _bella_."

"I don't care. You could be gone for an hour and I'd still miss you."

Sara chuckles.

The Adelaide event was at the end of November, and now it's mid-March with the Rolex just around the corner in April. This was the only time they could schedule to meet each other, weighed down by training and other responsibilities. Even now, they'll only be in Amsterdam together for four days.

Mila shifts and Sara looks up to meet her eyes. "Do you want to go check into the hotel now?"

"Mhmm, but I'm not letting go of you." Sara cuddles closer against her girlfriend's side.

"Okay."

Without warning, Mila scoops Sara into her arms, carrying her princess-style to pick up their luggage while she giggles the whole way.

They wave down a taxi once they've gotten everything, Mila agreeing to set Sara down as long as their arms are linked. The Italian rider leans close to her girlfriend's side as they wait for a free taxi to stop at the curb by them. They hail one and climb in the back, leaning on one another all the way to their hotel.

Sara and Mila have been coming to Amsterdam since they began dating. It's a gorgeous city full of wonderful people and a quick flight from both Italy and Russia. Depending on the time of year, they'll stay for a week or rent an apartment for more than a month. Unfortunately, the Classics have been getting in the way this past year and this is the only time they both had free until the summer. They plan on renting an apartment for a few weeks in July.

When they're not renting, they stay in the same hotel overlooking a canal. They know all the staff by name, and they sign in, dropping off their luggage in the room and heading out to walk through the city.

Amsterdam comes back to life in March. The leaves have sprouted back onto the trees and some flowers have begun to blossoms. Sara and Mila head to Vondelpark, arm in arm and enjoying the warm day. There's a gazebo in the park that they like to have picnic lunches or watch sunsets in at the end of long days. It sits over the water of a pond, led up to by a small bridge and a set of stairs.

They make it there and lean over the wrought iron fence that surrounds the inside, painted a soft green to match the scenery around them. Sara turns to Mila, their hands clasped loosely. "How's Sala been doing?"

Mila smiles. "She's good. She was a little sad over the winter."

"Did she miss Mira?"

"I think she missed the cross country course more."

The two of them laugh. Mila turns to look out over the pond. Sara stares at her girlfriend for a silent moment. "What are you thinking about, _bella_?"

Mila turns back to look at her, eyes becoming downcast a second later. "How much longer are we going to do this?" Her thumb rubs back and forth across Sara's knuckles. "Meeting in Amsterdam, spending so much on flights, abandoning our horses for months sometimes, stressing over making time to see each other, and I miss you so much, sometimes for _months._ I'm tired of it."

"I am too, _bella_." Sara holds Mila's hands close to her chest, her girlfriend looking up. "I want to live with you and wake up next to you and make you breakfast every morning and kiss you goodnight and wake you up specially on the weekends." Mila giggles. "But we're both busy with the Classics right now. After Burghley we'll start looking for apartments in St. Petersburg. You don't think Yakov will mind having a new student, do you?"

"Not at all." Mila sighs. "Would marrying you right now make it happen faster?"

Sara laughs. "Maybe. But don't get any ideas. We wouldn't have any time for a honeymoon."

Mila huffs and Sara laughs again, pulling her girlfriend against her chest.

For once, she"s thankful for the excuse of the Classics. Sara's been planning on proposing to Mila since the beginning of the year. She already ordered the custom rings and has been looking for an apartment for them in St. Petersburg. There's one close to where Victor and Yuuri live that she really likes, and the four of them could carpool to the stable everyday, so they wouldn't have to buy a car. With the Classics in the way, they stay separated so Sara has an easier time making plans and keeping secrets.

They do a little window shopping before they have to head back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. Sara is too focused on adjusting her skirt to notice Mila until her girlfriend speaks from across the room. "Will you zip this up for me?"

"Of course..." Sara turns and stops before she can even take a step.

Mila's dress is midnight black, hugging her curves in every perfect way imaginable. The single strap leaves nothing of her shoulders or collarbone to the imagination, and the skirt stops just above mid thigh; Sara's favorite part of her girlfriend's body.

She steps forward to stand behind Mila, ignoring the zipper to trace her fingers up her spine and plant a kiss on the back of her neck. Her hands slip inside the dress to wrap around Mila's waist and pull her close to Sara's chest.

"Sara..." Mila giggles, voice suddenly lower. "We have a reservation."

"We have three other nights to eat there." Sara presses more kisses to her shoulders, moving up to her ear to mutter softly, "You're all I want to eat right now."

That's all she needs to say before Mila turns and practically jumps her, their lips meeting in an immediately deep kiss. Mila's dress drops as they move and her girlfriend has Sara's skirt undone by the time the back of her knees hit the mattress. Her shirt is next and, as they're forced apart by the fabric, Mila pulls Sara closer and locks her lips to her neck. She kisses and sucks and nips and Sara can't help but gasp at the heat that they build.

Mila hums against her collarbone. "The hickeys are gone. Should I fix that?"

Sara smiles. "Only if I can give you some."

Mila smirks up at her. Within a second, Sara is on her back on the bed, her girlfriend climbing on top of her. They both crawl back until they're in the center of the mattress before locking lips once more, kissing deep and desperately. Sara hates it when they separate until Mila latches onto her neck and begins sucking and biting.

She groans as her girlfriend nips her jugular. "Oh, _bella..."_

"Shh!" Mila quips. "We've done nothing but talk for months. Just let me touch you."

Sara says nothing in response, just moaning as the nipping and sucking moves to her collarbone.

They never could get in to Skype or phone sex or sexting, so their first times alone in hotel rooms are always like this. And Sara loves it. Being away from each other for months and only being able to talk is frustrating when they just want to hold or kiss or touch one another. They often get complaints from the guests in adjacent hotel rooms or, even more regularly, Mickey walks in on them. They never care and just move the bed away from the wall and bolt the door shut to continue their escapades.

Mila hums and moans against Sara's skin as she kisses her way around her chest, no doubt leaving very visible hickeys as she goes. She doesn't notice that her bra is gone until her girlfriend suddenly latches onto her nipple, sucking and dragging her teeth across the sensitive flesh slowly. Sara can't stop the noise that escapes her throat.

These moments of physical affections are treasures in their relationship. With countries and training keeping them apart, they make sure every one of these moments is sacred. Kisses in the morning, wrapping their arms around each other from behind, cuddling on all the furniture they can, and the throws of sexual passion; none are wasted and all are special, so far between that it forces them to make as many as possible while they can.

This is why Mila's mouth and hands are desperate as they travel lowers and why Sara moans at every touch, each making her hotter and wetter. It's why the rest of their clothes are off in an instant and the most sensitive parts of their bodies come together to make them cry out in pleasure together. It's why Sara holds Mila close as her body is rocked with heat and tremors. It's why she mutters ' _bella'_ over and over again into her girlfriend's skin, marking it with bruises and bites. It's why Sara never wants to leave Mila's side. It's why she wants to marry and grow old with the most beautiful woman on Earth.

Hours and quite a few orgasms later, Sara steps out of the bathroom in her pajamas to find Mila cuddled close to her pillow and buried deep under the blankets.

Sara chuckles. " _Bella,_ it's you're turn."

The Russian rider groans. "But I'm so warm! I don't wanna pee!"

"I guess that means you're happy to get a UTI."

Mila grumbles before rolling out of bed and slipping into the bathroom. Sara stops her to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'll order room service."

Mila smiles softly before the door closes between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you take ANYTHING away from this chapter, please let it be this:  
> Always  
> ALWAYS  
> pee after sex or masturbation. I don't care if the bed or your partner is warm, I don't care if you didn't come. If your partner is being a dick, shove them off of you and go fucking pee!  
> You do not want to get a UTI, my lovely. Don't risk it.


End file.
